


It's a Jeep Thing

by weekend_conspiracy_theorist



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, I just want all my children to kiss, M/M, More or less Canon Compliant, Multi, established charmer and relatively quickly established nurseydex, road trip fic, so join me for this self-indulgent fic, where they road trip to st. augustine and fall in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-02 05:26:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8652658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weekend_conspiracy_theorist/pseuds/weekend_conspiracy_theorist
Summary: (You wouldn't understand.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> me: I love nurseydex and poly frogs is cute but I can't condone it when it involves erasing farmer, for one thing because she's lovely and for another thing because there are already way too few ladies in check please
> 
> me: ...clearly there is an obvious solution here and I don't know why anyone hasn't done it already

Caitlin steals Chris's Sharks hat off of his head, slapping it down backwards over her messy ponytail—a flash of grin dares him to steal it back, but he just beams at her and runs a hand through his hair. With a laugh (it's not a giggle, Poindexter, she can sense your smirk and you can _fuck right off_ ), she throws an arm around his waist and presses up on her toes with pursed lips.

 

Chris leans down obligingly.

 

His eyes are all soft and crinkly, and he tweaks his hat since she'd put it on just a bit crooked. (She knows her smile is helpless and a little lovesick, but Chris is just… he's the best person she's ever met, much less the best person she's ever dated.) Caitlin languishes in indecision for a split second and then, just to see his eyes light up and his cheeks flush with surprise and pleasure, she drops a butterfly kiss on the tip of his nose instead of his lips.

 

Derek and Will make gagging noises in the background.

 

"If you two do that in my Jeep, I'm throwing you out on the side of the road," Will threatens, and when Caitlin throws a glare back over her shoulder, Derek is nodding in solemn agreement.

 

She huffs, readjusting her arm around Chris's waist. "When you two are less single and bitter—"

 

"Farm, I don't think they're ever not gonna be bitter," Chris blurts. Then he buries his face in her shoulder as Derek and Will make inarticulate but insulted noises in the background, because he pretty much only ever chirps people by accident. (And when he's doing it on purpose, you can… tell.)

 

"I did say _less_ ," she points out, his hair soft under her fingers as she runs her fingers through it soothingly.

 

They sidle to a stop next to Will's old Jeep (a dark green Wrangler that's probably seen more miles than both of her parents' cars combined, the plastic of the bumpers faded to mottled grey and the soft top nearly worn through where it stretches over the rollbars), and he steps forward, dropping his duffle bag with a soft grunt.

 

"The doors are unlocked," he tells them, hands on his lower back as he gets it to pop. "If you bothered to bring anything valuable that you don't want left unattended any time we stop, fork it over and I'll see what I can fit in the trunk."

 

Chris is bouncing on the balls of his feet, but Derek's eyeing the Jeep distrustfully. "It seems… smaller than implied."

 

"I told you there wasn't any more floor space than Farmer's car," Will mutters, flicking through his keys. "And the air conditioning sucks; Florida's gonna be a bitch."

 

Caitlin scoffs, throwing open the passenger door and shoving her bag as far down into the floorboards as she can get it to go. "Florida's always a bitch," she points out, fumbling for the lever to pull the seat forward so Derek and Chowder can climb into the back.

 

("Okay, why do I have to ride in the back?" Derek demands, laid out flat on the floor of Chris's room, fingers idly toying with the fibers of the rug. "For that matter, why does Chowder? We're the tols to you smols."

 

"Uh, Dex is only a little bit shorter than you, Nursey; I don't think he counts as a 'smol'? But I also don't, you know, have a tumblr, so I could be wrong on the terminology?" Chris frowns, looking over at Caitlin for confirmation, and she rolls her eyes and shrugs. Neither Derek nor Will are listening anyway.

 

Will spins away from Chris's desk, where he's been planning their route on Google Maps, and kicks Derek mostly-gently in the side. "C can't drive a stick—"

 

"My family only has automatics, you know? I just never got the chance to learn. It's really cool that you do, though, Will! It seems like such a useful skill!"

 

Will keeps his voice deadpan, but the little tug of amusement at the corner of his lips betrays him. "And _you_ , Nurse, your driving experience is almost solely within New York fucking City, and I do not trust you behind the wheel of my Jeep. So that means that Farmer is my only relief, which means she's my favorite, which means—"

 

"Is it _really cool_ that I can drive a stick, too, Chris?" Caitlin asks, flopping over so that her head is in his lap. She's not really sure if she's teasing him or genuinely asking, and she can see Derek and Will exchanging amused-but-also-vaguely-disgusted glances in the corner of her eye.

 

"Obviously!" Chris exclaims, without a hint of sarcasm, and Cait beams up at him.

 

"You're just trying to win brownie points with Farmer so she doesn't make you and Chow take the pull-out couch," Derek accuses Will, as Caitlin reaches up to pull Chris down into a kiss.)

 

"Do you always leave the doors unlocked, Dex?" Chris asks, curious, as he awkwardly attempts to fold his lanky frame into the Jeep.

 

Will snorts, rifling through his keys as he looks for the one to the trunk. "Yeah. The top costs more than any of the shit I keep in here, so I'd rather give a thief easy access to my three pennies and locked glove compartment than have them try and cut their way in with a pocket-knife."

 

"You need to lower that shoulder and, like, snake through," Caitlin offers, wincing, and Chris contorts himself further before finally- gracelessly- tumbling into the backseat. One leg didn't quite make it inside with him.

 

He's quiet for a moment, and Caitlin delicately shoves at his converse-clad foot. "There's, um, zero leg room back here, Dex."

 

"I told you people we should have taken Farmer's car!" Will snatches Derek's laptop bag out of the extended hand, and Caitlin rubs at the bridge of her nose tiredly.

 

"My mom won't let anyone drive my car other than the family," she explains, slowly and with the frustration of repetition. "Either we were gonna have to get a hotel so I didn't have to drive for twenty plus hours straight, or we were taking your Jeep."

 

"Dex, bro, chill," Derek says, shrugging as he wanders around to the passenger door. (Will makes a strangling motion towards his back.) "If Farmer doesn't mind me getting a little friendly with her boyfriend—" he shoots her a wink, and she rolls her eyes fondly— "then C and I can drop our legs on each others' laps and stuff. We'll make it work."

 

Caitlin slinks an arm around his waist before he can climb inside, dropping her cheek against his shoulder- it's bare due to one of his many tank tops ("GENDER IS OVER if you want it") and obscenely muscular and pleasantly warm- and sighing dramatically. "When he succumbs to the charm of your perfect cheekbones and flawless lashes and you indulge him in a single night's affair, all I ask is that you be gentle and loving and send him back to me a kinder man for having strayed."

 

"Aw, Farmer…" Chris has managed to flip himself around so he can stick his head back out, eyes sad.

 

Caitlin cackles, smacking Derek on the butt. (He laughs, and she's pretty sure that he'd have started twerking or something if she'd left her hand there.) "Oh, and he likes it when you—"

 

Will claps one callused hand over her mouth and gently tugs her away from Derek. "Please don't. My intense need to not hear about you and C's sex life is exactly why you two aren't allowed to share a bed on this trip, remember?"

 

She licks his hand, and he shrieks as he jumps away from her, wiping it off on his jeans with disgust. "Just get in the Jeep, Derek," she says with a sniff. "It feels like time to get this show on the road."

 

Derek obliges, climbing in with a joking sway to his hips, and snickers, "Dexy, is that always how you respond when a girl puts her tongue on you?"

 

"I hate all of you," Will sighs, running a hand through his hair. He's climbing into the driver's seat as he amends, "All of you except Chowder," and gets a hug from behind as Chris throws his arms around the seat.

 

"This trip is gonna be great!" Chris enthuses, his smile wide wide wide and glittering with metal and tiny rubber bands in teal and orange. (This, despite the fact that his knees are drawn up to his chest as Derek wriggles around trying to find the piece that the seatbelts clip into.)

 

Will pats at Chris's forearm, and Caitlin is the only person in a position to see the expression on his face. "Yeah, whatever," he says.

 

**[SMH Group Chat]**

 

**Chowder: FW:Farmer <3: [A picture of Chowder's face squished against the back of the driver's seat, eyes scrunched shut as he hugs Dex from behind. Dex is smiling with just a little tilt of his lips and a crinkle at the corners of his eyes, begrudgingly fond, and he has one hand on Chris's arms and the other on the key as he starts the Jeep.] Away we go!!!**

**Shitty: have fun! don't do anything I would do!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dex's wrangler, except for the color, is directly based off of my dad's (not mine; I drive a much much newer patriot and that wouldn't have the same hard-working-country-boy vibe) anyway, so my point in bringing this up is that my dad's used to have a hard top in addition to the soft top that he'd switch in and out once in a while--then he accidentally _ran it over_
> 
> feel free to imagine that this is also true of dex, and that it is a story he will take to the grave in an attempt to avoid getting chirped to within an inch of his life
> 
> (also, one time, in a different car, my dad drove over his own foot. #true story)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a successful day of adulting and want to celebrate, plus I Crave That Validation, so here; have chapter two!
> 
> (and the summary for this chapter has no relevance to anything, really, I just thought it was funny)

It's an hour later when Caitlin asks, "Why'd you wave at that guy?"

 

Will startles, glancing at his hand as if it's betrayed him. "Uh."

 

"Who'd Dex wave to?" Derek asks, sitting up as best he can when his legs are intertwined with Chris's in a way that doesn't look comfortable (but seems to satisfy them both). He peers over the back of the seat like he's trying to catch a glimpse of the other car.

 

"I dunno, some middle-aged dude." Caitlin pokes Will in the shoulder, narrowing her eyes. "Do you have other friends, Poindexter? Where have you been hiding them?"

 

"I was just—the other guy was also driving a Wrangler, okay?" Will swats at her hand, scowling, and says- almost sarcastically, like he's parroting the phrase—"It's a Jeep thing, you wouldn't understand."

 

And then he promptly groans, because William Poindexter is nothing if not attuned to the sound of Derek Nurse's scoff of disbelief.

 

"When did Jeep owners become particularly inscrutable?" Derek taunts, freeing one leg for the express purpose of kicking the back of Will's seat.

 

"Aw, guuuuyyyys," Chris whines, hand over his eyes as he lets his head drop back. (Not against the window, because according to Dex that can warp the plastic, but against the metal rod that's part of the mechanism of the soft top.)

 

"It's just the fucking ad slogan or whatever, Nurse," Will mutters, and his grip tightens on both the steering wheel and the stick. The red flush of embarrassment creeps down his neck and towards his ears.

 

Caitlin would feel bad for him if it wasn't entirely likely he was just going to turn around and pick a fight with Derek in another hour or so. Instead, she and Chris share a look, the 'Oh god, this is going to be a long ride' look that Chris originally perfected with Bitty during roadies.

 

"Are you guys the equivalent of vehicle hipsters?" Derek sounds positively gleeful.

 

"What?" Will makes a face. "Jeep people are, like, off-roaders and country boys and shit like that, Nurse, not hipst—"

 

"Are you sure, because, uh, 'you wouldn't get it unless you were one of us, and you don't get it, so you're not one of us' is a pretty hipster sentiment to—"

 

"How do you manage to be so fucking obnoxious all the damn—"

 

"Please just explain the waving!" Caitlin cuts in loudly, and Chris breathes a heavy sigh of relief as Derek and Will both fall abruptly silent.

 

After a moment Will says, "It's a thing that some Jeep people do," and he's clearly picking his words very carefully. "Mostly the ones who drive Wranglers or Rubicons. It's just, uh, an acknowledgement within the community, I guess."

 

Derek makes a little noise like he wants to make a comment, but something keeps him from actually doing so; Caitlin suspects Chris is putting his big brown eyes to use in an attempt to plead for peace. However, she's too busy watching Will, marking the slow retreat of his blush- no longer disappearing under the collar of his t-shirt but still vibrant on his ears- to turn around and see for herself.

 

"There're some rules, uh… You're not supposed to try and wave at someone across multiple lanes of traffic or a highway divide, that way people aren't getting distracted from what's actually happening in front of them." Will begins to gesture with his hand, but the brake lights of the car in front of them light up and he's forced to downshift.

 

"And… there's also some hierarchy about which Jeep is supposed to initiate the wave," he offers more tentatively. He and Caitlin both know this is prime chirping material, so she shoots a glare towards the backseat; the threat of her wrath is enough to keep the boys silent.

 

"Having an older Jeep, the top down, the doors off, shit like that ranks you higher, so the other guy has to wave to you. I don't know that people pay that much attention to that, though." Will's jaw twitches, voice challenging, as he adds, "My dad always waves at the other Jeeps on the road, so I just kind of picked it up."

 

Derek huffs, and he doesn't apologize for trying to get under Will's skin.

 

These silly boys would do anything for each other except learn how to get along. Caitlin rolls her eyes and pops her lips, breaking the tense silence, then slouches casually in her seat so she can prop her feet up on the dash. "We're googling the official guidelines next time we stop somewhere with free wifi. I want in on this secret Jeep culture."

 

Derek laughs, and out of the corner of her eye she sees Chris give her a thumbs up. Will only snorts, but he does say, "Sounds like a plan, Farm. If anyone snubs you by not initiating the wave, we can just flip them off instead."

 

Caitlin cackles, punching him lightly on the shoulder. "Perfect."

 

"Perfect!" Derek gasps, and Chris squeaks in indignance as Derek accidentally kicks him in the stomach while trying to get his phone out of his pocket. He frees it with a victorious noise and shoves it between the side of the Jeep and Caitlin's seat, wiggling it furiously. "Farmer, whip out the aux cord and hook me up. I can't believe we're listening to the radio when I spent a week working on the capital-P Perfect roadtrip playlist."

 

"'Perfect'?" Will echoes. As Caitlin accepts the phone, scrolling through the playlist curiously, he eyes it the way most people would look at a landmine (or maybe Adam and Justin's joint gym bag).

 

"Yes, Dex, perfect," Derek sing-songs, with (obviously-fake) infinite patience. "There's Disney songs for Chowder, various Top Forty songs for Farmer, an extra helping of Beyoncé in reverence to Bitty, some dad rock for you, and I kept my 'indie crap' to a minimum, favoring _Panic!_ and _Neon Trees_ and shit like that instead."

 

"It's a pretty good playlist, Dex," Caitlin agrees, rifling around for the cord. (She saw it earlier and debated hooking up her own phone, but all she's got is her study playlist; it's just Nicki's verse from "Monster" on repeat.)

 

The radio, previously playing quietly in the background and tuned to some random pop station that had been starting to fade in and out anyway, cuts off into a staticky sort of silence as Caitlin hooks up Derek's phone.

 

"We can skip anything you don't like! That's part of the advantage to a playlist as opposed to the radio," Chris points out as he leans forward to the best of his abilities, and Caitlin tilts the phone to let him watch as she scrolls for a good song to start with.

 

Dex scoffs. "We aren't gonna be skipping anything, C, and you know it. You, Nursey, and Farmer are gonna be singing along with every single song, and then you'll act all puppy-dog-eyed and betrayed if I so much as glance at that thing funny."

 

(Chris hisses, "Stop! That one!" and points energetically. "It's thematic, Dex probably knows it, and Nursey must not hate it too much since he put it on the playlist!")

 

"That is patently untrue, Dex, and I am insulted that you would form that opinion of us." Derek leans forward so he can smirk straight into the rearview mirror. "We're almost definitely gonna skip all of your dad rock."

 

"Are we, Derek?" Caitlin asks, pressing play on the only Sammy Hagar song she knows off the top of her head. "Are we really?"

 

**[SMH Group Chat]**

**Chowder: [shaky video footage of Nursey's expression as Farmer and Dex belt out "** [ **I Can't Drive 55** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=10X3zJpMDMo) **" at the top of their lungs. He's very clearly trying to look disgusted even though he's amused, and when Dex hits a particularly sour note he has to bury his face in the back of Farmer's seat. Chowder, unseen, is wheezing with laughter.]**

**Jack: good song**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know those dudes who get all pissy about "bandwagon fans"?
> 
> SPORTS HIPSTERS


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nursey and chowder spoon and everyone teases chowder because he's overwhelmingly in love with farmer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for reference, I like to imagine that cait is about 5'5" and buff as FUCK

"I think C is asleep," Derek whispers, just loud enough for Caitlin and Will to hear him over the soft sounds of "Kiss the Girl" coming from the speakers over their heads.

 

After the first bathroom break and driver change, Will had turned the radio down ("I have control of the phone now, Nursey, just be happy I'm not turning it _off_ ") and Chris and Derek had shifted around so that they were spooning along the bench ("Farmer, drive careful; we're sharing one seatbelt").

 

Caitlin glances in the rearview, not that she can actually see much other than a hint of Chris's t-shirt and the point of Derek's elbow where his arm is curled tight around her boyfriend. "He likes being the little spoon," she explains, soft and with just a hint of laughter in her voice.

 

Will makes a noise, setting his hand over his eyes. (She's watching the road, but she's almost certain there's a hint of a smile on his face.) "How does that even work, F? You're like a foot shorter than him."

 

"It works," Chris mumbles sleepily, "as if she's a really muscular, extra cuddly backpack."

 

Caitlin croons as she flicks on the blinker, moving over a lane so she can pass the Suburban in front of them. "Aw, baby, that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me."

 

"I call bull," Derek declares. He uncurls his arm from around Chris (who makes a disgruntled noise) to stick his hand as far into the front seat as he can and wave a finger at her. "Chowder has definitely said way sappier things to you, and I know this because I was there."

 

"'She smells almost as good as Bitty's blueberry pie,'" Will quotes.

 

Derek flips his hand so he can point aggressively at Will. "Exactly. Oh, and 'wow, gosh, Farmer, you look like an Amazonian princess in that outfit'." He raises the octave of his voice, doing a decent job of mimicking Caitlin's voice. "'Chris, are you saying I'm Wonder Woman?'"

 

"'UM. OBVIOUSLY!'" Will and Derek both chorus.

 

("Oh my god, Chris," she laughs, throwing back her head, but he grabs her hand and drags her attention back to himself, looking so utterly sincere.

 

"No, seriously! Farmer, you're beautiful and compassionate and tough, and look—" he spreads out her arms, stepping back as he looks over her outfit. "You've got these silver bracelets on, and then with the kinda Greek-esque sandals and the flowy shirt and the shorts to show off your incredible thighs—"

 

"He's kinda right," Will points out, arm draped over Derek's shoulders. He gestures at Farmer with his other hand, mouth twisting in that way it does when he's thinking. "It's not a direct translation to Wonder Woman's normal costume, obviously, but you could be wearing a closet cosplay for one of those issues set while she's still in Themyscira or something like that."

 

Derek makes a strangled noise. "God, you fucking nerd."

 

"I'm a comp sci major, you dick; what'd you expect?"

 

Normally Caitlin or Chris would be trying to break up the minor scuffle that's breaking out, but she reaches up to throw her arms around his neck instead, burying her face in his shoulder. There are tears pricking at the corners of her eyes—she can't explain them, except that there's a half dozen longboxes of old comics tucked away in her closet back home, a half a million tiny insecurities regarding the size of her legs tucked away in her heart.

 

Chris wraps his arms around her, and she can practically feel him vibrating with excitement as he suggests, "Oh, Farmer, do you think we could find something kinda Army-ish for me and recreate a Diana and Steve Trevor panel for a picture?!?")

 

"You're right," Caitlin says, blinking away the memory, " _that's_ the nicest thing someone's ever said to me."

 

Will snaps his fingers. "What about, 'whoever wrote this graffiti about being in awe of Scarlett Johansson has obviously never met you.'"

 

"'I spent like ten minutes staring at her when I was supposed to be studying and the only reason I noticed is because she looked up and stuck her tongue out at me and it was so cute it shocked me back into awareness,'" Derek adds.

 

"Thanks a lot, Nurse, I hadn't told Farmer about that," Chris whines. (Caitlin grins as she imagines him burying his face in the car seat, turning bright red.)

 

Will cackles. "Oh, are we branching out into things that he said _to_ us _about_ Farmer? My favorite is 'she called her hair a 'bird's nest' when she woke up this morning, and like? Any of us would be super lucky to be that bird?'"

 

Caitlin barks out a laugh and then claps a hand over her mouth. " _Chris_."

 

"Leave me alone," he mumbles. "Shitty got me high."

 

"'She found the bug in my code _first try_ , and she's only had one programming class!'" Will glances over at her, an easy grin on his face, and teases, "Y'know, Farm, I could use some of that debugging magic on _my_ code, too."

 

She sniffs, pretending to flick her hair back even though none of it was over her shoulder in the first place. "Buy a girl dinner first, Poindexter."

 

"After he first saw you play, he spent two hours talking about how you'd probably be on the Olympic team one day, even though he still had exactly zero idea how volleyball worked and whether or not you were actually any good," Derek tells her, a warm laugh just under the surface of his words.

 

"I stand by that statement!" Chris reaches up to grab her elbow and squeeze, just for a second. "I knew you were good because of how often the other team's fans yelled curse words after you did things!"

 

"At one point during that two hours, he also glanced around furtively and then leaned in to whisper to us that you looked really good in those shorts and that you 'could probably crush a watermelon between your thighs'," Will adds, reaching over to steal Chris's hat off of her head- she squawks in indignance- and settle it sideways onto his own.

 

"That thing about the watermelon can't count as a sappy thing about me, though," Caitlin protests, running a hand over her messy hair and shooting Will a side-eyed glare. "He's totally said that about Derek, too."

 

Everyone is silent for a moment, an animated lobster's quiet voice filling the air.

 

A Cheshire grin spreads across Will's face as he slowly turns in his seat, eyebrow rising. "Has he?" he says, with poorly disguised glee.

 

"Is there something you need to share with the class, Chowder?" Derek asks. "Was that a purely aesthetic assessment of my glorious thighs or are you- gasp- _not a straight boy_?"

 

"Um." Chris pops his lips and drags out, "Boooooth?"

 

"An entire carload of queers," Derek says reverently.

 

"My bisexual transgender ass has never been in better company," Will agrees with heavy solemnity.

 

"The more important question," Caitlin teases, loudly and distractingly because she can remember the pounding of Chris's heart under her fingertips when he first came out to her, "is whether or not 'capable of snapping me in half with their thighs' is on Chris's checklist when it comes to picking date mates."

 

Apparently Chowder doesn't really want to answer that question either, though.

 

"I'M SORRY BUT IS THAT BEYONCÉ I HEAR?" he shouts, unbuckling his and Nursey's seatbelt so he can lunge for the radio and crank it obnoxiously loud.

 

(Caitlin cackles.)

 

**[SMH Group Chat]**

**Dex: [Video of Chowder and Nursey flawlessly singing along to "Partition", Nursey dancing along as best he can and finishing the song with a lascivious wink at the camera. Someone off-camera wolf-whistles.]**

**Bitty: good song**

**Jack: are you mocking me bittle**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one FEELS short but I'm pretty sure it's about the same wordcount as the others? anyway, the next chapter is Pretty Long, so that'll make up for it either way I guess maybe sort of????
> 
> also,,,,, I meant to post this like two weeks ago and then Didn't, whoops

They've been snacking throughout the day; Will had had the foresight to run to Target the night before and pick up a can of Pringles for each of them, a total of two boxes of Little Debbies (oatmeal cream pies and nutty bars), and a bag of clementines, providing them with savory, sweet, and non-processed snacks for whatever mood they happen to be in. Cait alone has eaten at least a third of the bag of clementines, and she knows the boys have finished off the box of nutty bars.

 

So when she says, "Are we ever going to stop for lunch?" around three in the afternoon, her tone laced with exasperation and frustration, it's not that she's hungry—

 

it's that Derek and Chris have been literally on top of each other for the last eight hours. Tensions are starting to run high.

 

("Nu-urse-ey, I'm _serious_ , could you try not to breathe right in my ear? It's freaking me out!"

 

"I'm sorry, do you want me to just _not breathe_ , Chowder?!?")

 

("Would you quit squirming?!?"

 

"Nursey, your knee is digging into my appendix! I'm just trying to get comfortable! Please give me a sec!")

 

Will glances over at her, a muscle ticking in his jaw, and jerks his chin towards the windshield. "Where the hell are we gonna stop, Farmer? We're in the middle of ass-knows-where right now."

 

"We're in the Blue Ridge," she tells him, rolling her eyes, but he's not exactly wrong. There's a sign up ahead welcoming them to some small town or other, but on the winding mountain roads it may still be fifteen minutes before they see a building, and there's no guarantee the town will have a restaurant any of them are interested in eating at.

 

"I nominate Dex as sacrifice in the event we're forced to turn to cannibalism."

 

" _Derek_ ," Caitlin says, infusing her tone with as much exasperation as she can.

 

He makes a noise of annoyance and mutters a cursory, "Sorry."

 

Will, with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, mutters, "Whatever," and for a moment, Caitlin almost thinks he's letting it go. And then, as he turns on the blinker rather more aggressively than necessary, he adds a snide, "It's nice of you to try and help Nursey be less of an asshole, Farmer, but it's not going to take."

 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Derek demands, and Caitlin lets her head thunk sideways against the window.

 

"Uh, that you're an asshole?" Will slides smoothly into the fast lane, putting on a little extra speed to get around the PT Cruiser he'd been following for the last ten miles or so. "Gee, Nurse. I thought comprehension was kind of an English major thing."

 

"I meant the bit about it 'not sticking'." Derek punches Will's shoulder- Will smacks at his hand and snarls- and narrows his eyes. "Bro, I hate to break it to you, but the one of us who's most consistently an asshole is _you_."

 

Will scoffs. "Yeah, sure. Because _I'm_ the one who—"

 

"Oh, would you stop throwing that in my—"

 

"Uh, it seems like something pretty reasonable to throw in your face! You avoided me for like—"

 

"You were avoiding me! I was giving you sp—"

 

"Oh, fucking save it, you—"

 

"PLEASE JUST STOP!" Chris shouts, giving up on waiting for a lull. He glares from Will's seat to Derek's face, voice biting as he adds, "You promised this wouldn't happen when we decided to go on this trip."

 

"Yeah, well." Will flicks on his blinker again, face stony as he moves back to the right lane. He doesn't elaborate, and Derek is moodily silent.

 

Caitlin drags her hand down her face, scrunching her eyes tight, and does her very best not to scream. "Have you two actually regressed to the stage of antagony you were in a year and a half ago, or are you just having fun trying to make me and-or Chris play mediator every couple of hours?" she demands. She opens her eyes and spins in her seat, looking accusingly from one to the other of them.

 

Will's jaw has tightened further; Derek is staring pointedly out the window, face set in the "chill" mask that frequently (always) means he's feeling anything but.

 

"I think the proximity is just getting to all of us," Will finally offers, though he clearly doesn't believe the words coming out of his own mouth. There's a dull flush of red beneath the band of freckles over his nose, and his hands are nearly white-knuckled on the wheel and the shifter.

 

Caitlin narrows her eyes; he's acting squirrelly, and all of the previous yelling is finally filtering through. "When did you and Derek have a big fight?" she demands. Will frowns, glances at her with a lie ready on his lips, and she punches his shoulder in the same spot that Derek had just punched. "Don't you dare, William Poindexter!"

 

"Ow! Jesus, Farmer!"

 

"When did you have a fight?!? Why didn't Chris and I know about it?!?"

 

"It wasn't a fight!" She punches him again, though lighter this time because he does bruise like a peach, and he snarls. "Farmer, I'm serious! It wasn't a fucking fight!"

 

"Then what was it?" Chris asks, urgently, before Caitlin can punch Will again. (She almost does anyway, but she's already feeling mean for having done it twice, so she crosses her arms tight over her chest and draws her knees in to her chest instead.)

 

"We kissed," Derek mutters. "And then we didn't talk about it."

 

"Nursey refused to talk about it," Will snaps. Acidic, accusatory.

 

"I thought you didn't want to," Derek responds, sounding utterly exhausted.

 

Caitlin licks her lips, feeling her eyes go wide, and the Jeep is silent as Derek pointedly stares out a window, Will pointedly stares at the road, and she and Chris flounder for a response to this revelation. (It's not much of a revelation, in some ways, but—well, she had kind of always expected their first kiss to _solve_ their problems, not cause more. She should have known they'd always find the hardest way to do things.)

 

"Um, _do_ you… want to talk about it, then?" she asks, not looking at either of them. "Because you… could. Chris and I could, um, put in headphones or something, or—"

 

"You're such a dick," Will declares, reaching back to punch blindly at Derek's knee. (He would have hit the seat, but Chris- after a brief conflicted moment- politely redirects him.) "I had every intention of kissing you again till you went and bro'd it up, like, 'Dude'—" he waves his hand in a gesture at once angry and sarcastic—"'Nice talk! See you around!' and then made fucking finger guns as you backed out of the room!"

 

"I panicked," Derek whines, kicking lightly at Will's seat. "Do you know how long it'd been since a cute boy had kissed me?"

 

"Not long enough, apparently!"

 

"Are you—dude, do you regret it?"

 

"What, no? I didn't say—"

 

"Because I definitely don't, okay?"

 

"Well—"

 

"Dex." Derek grabs his elbow, shaking it lightly. "I so, so do not regret the fact that we kissed, and it'd be pretty 'swawesome if we did it again. Okay?"

 

The flush spreads further across Will's face, and he gently removes his elbow from Derek's hand. "Okay," he confirms. "I just don't—"

 

Caitlin throws her hands in the air. "Because you're both idiots! That's literally it, Will! You got in a sort-of-fight about your kiss because you're both dumb boys who are bad at emotions! Now find somewhere to pull over so you can kiss and make up properly!"

 

**[SMH Group Chat]**

**Chowder: [Dex dipping Nursey on the side of the road, laughing into the kiss. Nursey's hands clutch at his shoulders, clearly caught off guard, and Farmer's hands are just visible in the frame. They're slightly blurry, as if she'd quickly moved them into view just before Chowder took the picture, and bent into a heart shape.] Two D-Pairs in a row!!! It's officially an SMH tradition!!!**

**Ransom: GET IT DEX**

**Holster: GET IT NURSE**


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lunch, and a giant orange cow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so as I post this, I have NOTHING ELSE WRITTEN OF THIS FIC which is the first time that's happened since I'd written four and a half chapters before I started posting, and means that updating may get even more sporadic than it already is? but also I... actually tend to write more during the school semester, even though I always think I'll get so much done during winter break, because during school I write in order to aggressively procrastinate from my actual work, so ~who knows~

Derek drapes himself along the back of Caitlin's booth, only wobbling dangerously once while he gets one elbow situated under himself and flops the other one down over her shoulder, hand settling on her rib cage. She pats his forearm absently, noting how lucky they are that the girl behind the counter of the tiny restaurant-slash-antique-shop has a good sense of humor, and takes another bite of her macaroni. (She's the last one eating because she actually understands what the words "moderation" and "indigestion" mean. Teenage boys.)

 

"You're the best, Farm, you know that?" Derek says, with the air of a man who's trying very hard to be charming.

 

"Trying to talk me into sneaking over to that trading post with the heifer out front?" she asks, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and he makes insulted noises until she adds, "Because I'm totally in; that cow has 'road trip memories' written all over it."

 

Will and Chris are hunting through the antiques on the other side of the store, Chris delighted by every strange thing he finds and Will perversely fascinated by the outrageous prices being asked—every time he flips a trinket over, searching for the little round stickers, he yelps a little louder, and Chris shushes him a little more desperately. (The girl behind the counter just laughs into her sweet tea as she sips and half-heartedly wipes down the counter. Caitlin repeats: they're lucky she has a sense of humor.)

 

"It's a beautiful cow," Derek agrees, voice dreamy. "We're gonna take such good selfies in front of that cow, Caitlin Farmer. Just the best selfies."

 

"Dork."

 

"You love it."

 

She harrumphs, but she's mostly full and her macaroni is mostly cold, so she sets down her fork and finds Derek's hand so she can tug him along as she slides out of the booth. (He nearly falls, naturally, but her hands on his arm keep him from tipping until he has his feet back under him. She shoots a quick glance back to Chris and Will, but she needn't have worried—they're distracted by a crate of what looks like cookbooks.) She throws a wink over her shoulder to counter girl- gets a wink back- and she and Derek almost trip over each other in their attempts to be both silent and hasty in leaving.

 

("It's just an orange cow statue, Nurse," Will says, exasperated, as he ignores the hand hitting him over and over on the shoulder. "There's literally no reason to stop."

 

"Food!" Derek points triumphantly at the store just ahead of them. "Everybody likes fried chicken, come on, Poindexter!"

 

Will squints. "That says 'broasted', not 'fried'. What the fuck does 'broasted' even mean, honestly."

 

"Broiled and roasted, presumably?" Chris says, wrapping his arms around Will from behind and letting his cheek squish against the seat. "I bet it tastes great!"

 

"Let's find out," Caitlin suggests, and Derek squeezes her shoulders excitedly.

 

"This is just an excuse for you to take a stupid selfie with that cow and I know it," Will complains, but he flicks on his blinker nonetheless.)

 

She and Derek are laughing before they're quite out the door, and Caitlin's absolutely certain that no matter how determined their boys were to find Bitty a Christmas present- why else would they be looking at cookbooks?- that they've been made. So she drops her arm from Derek's waist to grab his hand and tug him into a sprint, throwing back her head as she laughs—and within three strides he's tugging her along instead, of course, thanks to his stupidly long legs.

 

"Carry me next time!" she yells up at him, and he turns his patented, blinding, Derek Nurse™ smile back at her. She smiles back, as hard as she can, and his fingers squeeze tighter around hers. God, these silly, silly boys; she loves them all.

 

Derek agrees, "Piggyback rides seem to turn out well for us!" and then promptly trips as they skid to a stop in the gravel lot. Caitlin gets her shoulder under him, knees bent, and does her best to bodily shove him back to his feet—but while she's strong, Derek is a six foot plus hockey player with ridiculous muscle mass who decides it'll be just _hilarious_ to go completely limp.

 

"Derek!" she shrieks, slowly sinking under his weight, and he has the audacity to _laugh at her_.

 

From way back in the doorway to the antique shop and chicken place, Will shouts, "You're both idiots!"

 

"Help me, Will!"

 

"You did this to yourself, F!" There's the distant sound of bells jingling and a door closing, a cheery death knell consigning her to her fate.

 

"This town must hate us," she giggles, finally letting her legs give out, and Derek throws his weight just far enough to the side to not squish her. (She's grateful; the gravel is sharp enough without an extra two hundred pounds.)

 

Derek hums, pats her hip- the closest part of her to his hand- and then pushes slowly to his feet. "We're being very obnoxious," he agrees. "But we won't be here for long."

 

She accepts the hand he offers but otherwise makes no effort to get to her feet, since he's the reason she's lying on the ground in the first place. He tugs ineffectually for a moment, then sighs and leans down to lift her properly. "It _is_ a very good thing we're going to be hitting the road again in a bit," she muses, and he slings her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. She lightly pats the butt that now makes up 90% of her view. "Have you been doing extra lunges with Justin and Bi—Eric?"

 

(She tries to make it a point to remind the SMH that they have real names, but it's _hard_ with Eric. The name "Bitty" just fits him so _well_.)

 

"Um, obvs." Derek deposits her next to the cow, rolling his shoulder to stretch it back out. "So how do we wanna do this?"

 

Caitlin sets her hands on her hips, studying [the stunning creature in front of them](http://shn.pca.org/images/Tour150912eb.jpg)—life-sized, vibrantly orange, bedecked in cowboy chic right down to a cowboy boot on each hoof. "Gotta do at least one duckface."

 

"Naturally."

 

"And I'm thinking one piggyback one with us standing right next to its face here, me with the phone and you with your hands on this beaut's snout."

 

He snaps his fingers, an easy grin spreading across his face as he declares, "One where we're each kissing a cheek."

 

She punches his shoulder, beaming, and he grins down at her with that sideways smile that he normally saves for when Chris has done something particularly adorable. "That'll _have_ to earn us a spot on Eric's twitter," she crows.

 

Derek crouches obligingly, and she hops up onto his back, one arm over his shoulders and legs wrapped tight around his ribs. "The entire goal of my existence," he says dreamily, straightening his knees. He's gazing off into the middle distance, face purposefully serene and contemplative, but he immediately snaps into a perfect duckface the instant she holds her phone out at arm's length, camera ready.

 

"There's no such thing as a bad picture of you, is there?" she teases; he just wiggles his eyebrows in response.

 

They're six or seven selfie variations in when a crunch of gravel heralds Will and Chris's arrival, and she can picture Will's exasperated eyes without even looking. Derek gives the two of them a little wave, a cheeky flutter of his fingers, and then leans in for their coup de grace—the cheek kiss picture.

 

"Do you have any idea what kinds of bacteria could be on that thing?" Will asks.

 

"You have to suffer for art," Caitlin responds primly, holding out her phone to Derek for his approval and patting the statue lightly on the cheek.

 

"I'd kiss the cow!" Chris offers, perennially cheerful, the literal sunshine of her life. God, but she loves him.

 

Will makes a noise somewhere between betrayal and disgruntlement. "I give up on all of you," he tells them and turns on his heel, hands shoved in his pockets, to walk away.

 

"Are you seriously judging our life choices right now, Dex?" Derek asks, wrapping one hand around Caitlin's phone to help steady it as he flicks through the selfies—his fingers are long and nimble and stained slightly orange from peeling clementines for Dex as he drives. He nods his approval of their pictures and then continues, snickering, "We aren't the one whose entire wardrobe consists of flannel."

 

Will doesn't falter in his step or even bother to glance back. "You only just gained the right to kiss me whenever you feel like it, Nurse, you really wanna lose it so soon?"

 

"Ooooooohhhhhhhh," Caitlin and Chris chorus, cackling, as Derek scrambles to chase after Will, barely remembering to hand Caitlin back her phone.

 

"What, no! Baby! Come back to me! In my heart I still believe—"

 

"Are you—Vanessa Hudgens, bro, seriously?"

 

"You recognized it!"

 

"I have… sisters…"

 

"Dude, I'm adding Vanessa Hudgens to the playlist, this is the best—"

 

Caitlin leans into Chris's side, huffing, as the door to the trading post shuts behind Derek and Will. "We can take a selfie with the cow if you want," she offers, sliding her hand into his back pocket and letting her head loll back to gaze up at him.

 

Chris shakes his head and loops one arm around her shoulders. "It's cool that you and Nursey have your own thing! He and Dex are your friends as much as mine these days!"

 

She blinks, swaying back slightly as she blows out a breath, months of in-jokes and hugs and weightlifting competitions and Mario Kart marathons running through her mind. "Huh, uh, yeah, I… I guess they are."

 

Chris gives her a bewildered smile, head tilting, as he takes in her reddening cheeks and faraway eyes. "Farm, did you… not realize…?"

 

She ducks her head, shoving lightly with her shoulder before she tugs him towards the door. "I dunno, I just hadn't thought of it that way! Quit giving me that look."

 

She thinks the subject's been dropped as they look around the trading post—it has a charming small-town vibe, full of mason jar lights and locally made wood furniture and artwork, and Dex looks right at home as he drops down to study a welded metal dog statue. (Nursey, meanwhile, is side-eyeing a mounted buck head with vague distrust.) They wander towards the others, Caitlin's hand still in Chirs's pocket, Chris's arm still around her shoulders.

 

But then Chris leans away from her, pokes Nursey in the side, and stage-whispers, "Did _you_ know that you and Farmer were friends?"

 

**[SMH group chat]**

**Chowder:[A picture of Nursey and Dex, clutching at each others' arms with twin looks of distress and horror.] [A picture of Dex carefully setting Chris's hat on Farmer's head. Both of their faces are bright red.] [A picture of Nursey down on one knee, presenting Farmer with a ring pop; her head is thrown back in laughter, and Nursey looks vaguely insulted. Dex, in the background, is rolling his eyes.] when SOMEONE doesn't realize she's your friend on her own merit and not just because she's dating your bff…**

**Bitty: aw, farmer!**

**Shitty: YOU BETTER MAKE SURE THAT VOLLEYBALL ANGEL KNOWS YOU LOVE HER, BOYS**

**Nursey: dex says "JESUS FUCK"**

**Chowder: nursey passed along shitty's message via screaming**

**Chowder: we got kicked out of the store**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that super cool kid nonbinarydereknurse made [an aesthetic](http://nonbinarydereknurse.tumblr.com/post/155954881472/its-a-jeep-thing-by-weekendconspiracytheorist) for this fic, and you should go reblog it because it's beautiful...........

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how regularly this is going to update (as I am notoriously bad about finishing things if I post the beginning before it's fully done...), but it's gonna be long. I have about 7k written already (four and a half chapters including this one), and it's /maybe/ halfway through the fic


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